The Once Lost Swan
by iHeartE.D
Summary: Deep in a forest, hidden away under the cover of a broken Kingdom and a mad sorcerer...there lives a swan. With a name and a leap of faith, Emma frees herself of winged chains to find adventure.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time or the Swan Princess or anything related to those stories. I simply decided to create a crossover of sorts. So basically I've taken bits and pieces of the Swan Princess, Tangled, and Once Upon A Time to give this magically delicious story of a lost princess turned swan by day and hero by night. A lot will be happening and I hope I can keep up. Hope you enjoy!**

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Introduction

Lord Rothbart did not start out so bad.

He was at first a Princely young man with a knack for the hunt and a taste for adventure. His mother was a Lady in the Court of a Faraway Kingdom who married his father, a Huntsman hired by Imperial Guardsmen to track down thieves and scoundrels. They had fallen madly in love, moved to a simple Kingdom, married and had one child.

Lord Feral Rothbart, firstborn son and heir to the only land his father ever owned.

The estate they lived on was a generous gift given by his Majesty and his Majesty's Queen. They were not known for their generosity but rather their cruelty towards anyone who posed a threat. The Rothbart family was therefore grateful for the land and any opportunity given to the young Lord's father, though it did take him away from the homestead quite often. His profession called him away to lands nearby and lands that could only be reached by the greatest practice of magic. The young Lord heard stories of such adventures and aspired to be the same as his famous father.

"We need the skill of an experienced Hunter to bring back a runaway." Queen Cora was rumored to be a fright, but Majestic and quite lovely. Whispers reached them on the winds and told tales of the Queens extracurricular interests. The Dark Arts, Forbidden magic, and unspeakable torture. The red she wore on her lips was not rouge but the hot crimson blood of her victims.

It was the recent Royal call of Queen Cora herself that had the Young Rothbart lord doubling over his notes. He wanted to be absolutely certain of every fable and every fact regarding the reigning family. He would not create a monster in his mind if there was no monster to be found.

"A runaway, your Majesty?" Rothbart's father, an aged man by the name of Grall, only lifted his head an inch to ask the question that lingered on everyone's mind.

The entire Rothbart family had been called to present themselves before the Queen. They kept their eyes downcast the moment they knelt in the empty throne room to the second that the Queen was announced. Young Feral Rothbart knelt for what felt like a lifetime and could feel his leg weakening. Both his mother and his father kneeled beside him, which was the only comfort he found in his physical pain.

"Yes, a young maiden."

His fathers voice was calm but stern, "What is the meaning of her sentence, my Queen?"

"She is of high import, Lord Rothbart. I believe she means to stage a coup to overthrow my family." Queen Cora, despite her fearsome tone and tactics, did not attempt to hide her worry or concern for the crown. It earned his fathers full attention.

"My Lady, this is indeed pressing. Might I know the full detail of her imprisonment and any other information you have to share? I should depart very soon."

Beside him, young Rothbart's mother tensed but she did not dare speak up.

Queen Cora sighed, "Rise. Both you and your family, please."

When the young Lord looked up he was quite shocked. Queen Cora was dark and daring, her figure cut quite the curve in her black gown but it was the harsh iron in her eyes that caught his breath deep in his lungs. Rumors met reality and he could not see a distinct line drawn between the two. She was terrifying, but beautiful, and her lips were indeed red. Was that rouge or was that blood? Here he was given the full vision of her. This was not a woman he would want to cross, nor was it a woman he would want to disappoint.

"Lady Rothbart, you and your son are welcome to the lunch my cooks have prepared. My daughter will lead you there while I borrow your husband for the time being. This will not take long."

From the shadows a young woman emerged. Her appearance almost mimicked her Queen mother, though she may have been much prettier and less stern. She was quick to obey and silent in her ways as she led them along.

Glancing back at his father, a peppered hunter with a large frame and trimmed beard, young Rothbart thought his father so brave. Surely a runaway would not take him from home for too long. A young maiden? Hardly a challenge.

At the age of 12, Feral Rothbart could accompany his father if he so wished it. However he was fully hopeful that this was a mission done alone and done quickly. His father would be home again soon.

So when the chamber doors connecting the rooms closed on the dark figure of his father, young Rothbart did not believe it would be the last of him he would be seeing.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

 _Princess, my Lovely Princess…_

She dare not answer. She dare not turn her head. The moon would soon be rising and it would be her time again to return to the land of words. The land of solace and somber living. A land where her only companion seemed to be the muted hag and the reflection in the pool of water she was condemned to.

 _Princess,_ _ **don't**_ _ignore me. I know you can hear me…_

It was not the degradation in his tone or the way he spit his harsh words, though those certainly did work in his favor, but rather it was his taunting. No father should ever hold such protection over his daughter the way he did over her.

'Princess of what? The pond to your crippled Kingdom?' The thought was weary and it hardly gave her any comfort to find it humorous.

Her father, King Rothbart, did not need many to rule over. He was crazed and impersonal. He needed only the chain of his magic to hold his daughter down, to confine her within his Kingdom. She was the only subject he need command.

 _Emma, come now. The moon is rising…_

Her eyes searched the sky. The moon peeked past the brush of clouds, light suddenly spilling over the water and eventually, the immaculate white swan that sat above it. Every transformation was different, but the feeling was always warm. It started in her wingtips, spreading quickly and taking over until those became hands and arms. Her feathers turned into long blonde tresses, a waterfall of gold that reached well past her waist. Sometimes the hag would adorn her head with petals and ribbons, but only on special occasions.

Today was not a special occasion.

Emma, once fully transformed, wade her way through the water to the gown hanging in the bare branches ashore. The hag waited, patient and silent as always. She never knew whether or not the tiny smile on her wrinkled face was genuine or put there by her father as punishment for being so hideous. The hag had always been there so she did not know what sort of unnamed deed she had done to be trapped here like the swan.

"Thank you." Emma murmured as the old woman laced the pieces of the corset together. She was nimble fingered and gentle as ever.

"I suppose my Father wants me to join him for dinner tonight?" Emma looked down at the hag who had taken her hand. She simply squeezed her fingers and the Princess knew. "That's what I thought."

Together the odd pair of them made their way through the garden, guided by moonlight that seemed to know the path they were taking. It was very unlikely that they shared any conversation unless Emma was feeling particularly spirited. Like her heart, her mind was barred for her own safety. She should not wonder about what was outside of the crumbling castle ruins for it would pain her heart deeply.

Time passed in an unfamiliar way. The days were short and the nights were even longer. Her father, Lord Rothbart, was a man of many talents. He could sing a low baritone, cook a grander meal than any she could imagine, and perform spectacular tricks with his sorcery. It was only at night that he ever graced his daughter with his presence. During the day, however? She did not know what it was he chose to do with his time.

Emma cared little for that. She was confined to the pond.

"My lovely Princess, what a sight you are this evening!" Emma's father, a tall man with a broad chest and shockingly dark red hair, threw his arms wide in mock enthusiasm. He did have a flare for dramatics. The sparkle in his eye, the warm tone of his voice, lured any slumbering excitement out like an unwilling child.

Emma could not help but smile, if just a little.

"Father," she curtsied and dipped her head. For a man like her father, Emma did often wonder how she came to be so opposite in looks. Her hair was white blonde, sometimes golden in the summertime and silver in the winter. For a girl of 18, she was tall and slim. If anything, she might have inherited her father's eyes but those too were different shades. She had blue and his were, well, bluer. So blue that he appeared possessed at times.

Emma figured that it was her mother she took after, despite never knowing or seeing her.

"So formal, my girl. Come and have a seat, I've prepared something new tonight while we dine!"

Ever the obedient daughter, Emma took her place at the end of the table and drew up her dark skirts to sit among the feast. He had prepared all of her favorites.

Tonight must be something special.

"What marks the occasion, Father?"

He did not answer right away. His attentions were focused on the hag as they discussed something in whispers. She did not move her mouth, simply nodded, and went on her way in a quickly executed scurry. Lord Rothbart rose to his full height and faced his daughter. The look in his eye took her aback.

He was absolutely crazed.

"It has come to my attention that you are in need of companionship."

Emma's hands clutched the edge of the table and her heart raced. What could he mean? Companionship? Was he going to let her go outside the walls of this forsaken Kingdom? She searched his face, every line and every twitch of his brow.

She attempted disinterest and lifted her goblet, "I have plenty of companionship. You and the hag are all I need."

"How sweet." He grunted, pleased by her manners and sincerity. It was enough to sate him for the moment and he took his place opposite of her. For a silent minute, Emma scratched enough food onto her plate to distract from full sentences during their conversation.

He spoke about many things, as was expected. Money, jewels, adventures outside of the Kingdom, people she had never met only heard of, and a few snippets of unimportance that Emma hardly realized the direction the conversation had gone.

"You're leaving?"

"I set sail tomorrow."

In all of her time in the crumbled Kingdom Emma knew that he left her, but she always felt his eyes watching. He was nearby, not far away. Travelling by sea was new and troublesome.

"What for?" She choked, failing at disinterest and becoming hysteric. This was unreal. Unexpected. It was...exciting.

He blinked, "Emma, control yourself. Have I taught you nothing?"

"I'm sorry." She mumbled. Thankfully he did not comment on her sheepishness.

"As I was saying, I have business overseas and I will be taking the hag with me. I have made arrangements to suit your needs. I found him sniffing around the gates just outside the forest. He's perfect." That surely would have cost anyone their freedom. The King of this castle would murder anyone who tried to pass his chained gates.

Emma froze. She felt her fingertips become like ice, unresponsive and cold to the touch. It spread upwards and into her chest. No one came to the forest. No one came to the gates. Her father's magic must be fading.

"You can't mean...Father, you didn't."

He waited just long enough to see Emma's pale face grow paler. With a great laugh that was neither contagious or humorous, he rose from his place at the table and threw his crazed eyes upwards.

"Bring Him in!" Lord Rothbart cried, his voice high and loud.

The sound of a door busted open and from the right the hag remerged. Emma gasped. Behind her, bound in rope, was a young man. His mouth had been gagged with a red kerchief and his blue eyes, so bright and afraid, were wide as he struggled.

"What did you do to him?!" She screamed, nearly knocking over her chair to reach the boy. The closer she came the easier it was to see that he was not normal. At least, not anymore. Though his blue eyes were fairly human, it was the texture of his skin that was not.

"I've brought you a little wooden boy."

Hardly little, but definitely a boy. Emma took the rope from the Hag, who backed away almost immediately, and removed the kerchief from his mouth. He heaved a great deep breath which she took as his 'thank you'.

"You can't do this! Someone will be missing him." Emma tried to undo his knots but her hands were shaking and numb. King Rothbart watched, no help to offer or sanity to lend to such an insane situation.

"Then he shouldn't have been sniffing around the gates in the first place."

Emma winced. She had never seen the entrance herself but she imagined it was grand and inviting. She couldn't blame the young man for being curious.

"So you cast a spell and imprisoned him?! Father, you can't do that!" Emma knew at once that she had spoken out of turn. The second the words left her, she could not will them back no matter how much she wanted to.

"Should I kill him instead then?" Calm and cool, King Rothbart took two steps and kneeled before his Swan daughter and wooden prisoner. Emma held her breath.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't….thank you. Thank you, father." Her resolve melted. The wooden boy would be stuck with her for as long as his punishment lasted. That could mean a week, a decade, or a lifetime.

The King snarled, "A little graciousness, my dear. It goes a long way."

Emma bowed her head, watching through her lashes as the King lifted himself to his full height.

"I'll take my meal in my chambers. Have the hag send it down," his voice was as normal as it was and he sounded less disgusted than before. "And Emma?"

"Father?"

"I won't be gone for long. When I return, I will have him hanged so don't get too attached."

"Of course, father. Sleep well." And without another word, the King was gone in a few short steps. Emma pressed a hand to her chest, to suppress the sob deep down and to hide the ache she felt. This poor boy. This poor, poor boy.

The hag poked at Emma, appearing beside her with a sharpened knife and a wrinkled hand to hold.

"Thank you, truly." She accepted the knife and began to saw at his binds, careful to avoid the delicate wooden finish. The boy did not speak, not until he was fully recovered from the shock of being captured, bound, and threatened. Emma was patient enough though. While her father was cruel, she was quietly grateful for a companion that could speak.

Not to mention, he was from the outside.

"My Papa will be so worried." He sounded sickly.

"What's your name?"

His blue eyes met hers and he frowned, "August."

"August, I'm Emma. I'm afraid my friend here doesn't have a name she's mentioned, so I think it would be okay for you to call her 'Lady'." The Hag nodded in silent approval.

The wooden boy observed the two, skeptical of what he was seeing and disapproving strongly. Perhaps he was still sore about the hag dragging him into the dining room like a pig on a spit.

"I thought this place was a myth. My Papa told me it was dangerous out this way, but I guess I thought I could handle it," he took a deep breath and knocked himself on the head. "This is what I get, I guess, for being too curious. Too overconfident."

Emma waited. She liked the sound of his voice. He wasn't like her father or the hag, that much was clear. August was someone she could talk to, confide in, and perhaps trust her secrets with. For however long her father was away she would use her time wisely. A friend was a friend, after all. Even if that friend had a limited number of days.

"August?"

"Yea?"

Emma smiled, "Why don't you eat some and then we'll talk."

He closed his eyes, thinking deeply as he shook his wooden head. She thought he might turn her down and try to make a run for it, but he didn't look like a fool. Instead he simply lifted his head and sighed, "Okay, Emma."


	3. Chapter Two

_I'm sure that those of you reading are a little confused. I figured that would be the case! Don't be. I will be revealing more and more as the story goes on, so hang in there. Feel free to leave any reviews. I love to hear your thoughts and theories._

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 **Chapter Two**

Emma smiled inwardly but also outwardly. How could she not? Despite his misfortune and lack of manners, August was a delight. In two hours they had become the best of friends. He was shy at first, afraid to eat what food Emma offered even though the feast had barely been touched. She let him take her place at the table and pulled a stool from one of the cleaning closets to sit beside him. There he warmed up a bit, picking grapes from a bowl to drinking a whole goblet of water.

Emma refilled it happily.

She spoke while he ate and watched as grapes became bread, then bread became a turkey leg. Soon he was taking generous helpings and adding in his own piece when Emma asked. She knew his answers were sincere and true. It was her own special quirk after all, to know when people were lying. He seemed like such an honest boy that the darkness creeping in her heart nipped at the thought. Honest boys don't go snooping around private estates. Especially when that estate was made a Kingdom by the self-proclaimed King Rothbart.

Then again his curiosity had taken over, which Emma noted as he talked on and on about the trouble he got into back home. His Papa was a stern man with a knack for lecturing, but he loved August. He probably loved him so much that he let his boy have adventures even though he had a streak of bad luck that followed. She wished she could assure his father that August was okay, that he was alive for the time being.

"Emma, hey, are you okay?" August's greasy turkey fingers poked at her shoulder. She jumped.

"You talk a lot." She chuckled.

The wooden boy grinned, "It's one of my many charming qualities. The King has said so himself."

"King? What King? My father doesn't even pay me any compliments." Her tone was harsh and biting, which was why she regretted it the second August frowned.

"Begging your pardon, but your father is a false King."

It was Emma's turn to frown, "I know that."

August sat back in his seat, observing Emma with the most peculiar expression that it made her uncomfortable to sit still. They were getting along so well, too.

"Where I'm from your father is rumored to be a powerful sorcerer. He was exiled the same time that the Red Queen was overthrown."

Emma had no idea who the Red Queen was and what it meant to be overthrown or exiled, but she knew how powerful her father's sorcery was. How powerful it remains. After all it is his magic that binds her to the pond as a swan each sunrise. A detail that she had yet to mention to August.

"Where are you from, August?"

"The Enchanted Forest." He said proudly, his eyes sparkling with the reflection of that notion as he crossed his arms and tipped his chin upwards. Emma giggled. He held himself like a Knight or a Prince.

"That sounds wonderful. What's it like?" She leaned forward onto her elbows. If her father had stayed she was sure this would be some form of misconduct on her part.

"Home? It's beautiful. It's like every fairytale with none of the bad stuff. I mean there's a kind King and a brave Queen, loyal subjects that are more like family, celebrations, good food, fairy magic, love, and everyday is like this dream you don't want to wake up from!" Augusts excitement was contagious.

Emma felt herself smiling bigger than before, "You said the King commented on your charm. You met him?"

"I didn't just meet him. I know him. We play chess when I visit with my Papa and I usually beat him." The pride in his response is so full and pure, Emma can't help but feel a little jealous of him. The royals are friends with him. Her father, a false King, can't even be bothered to spend an entire night with her unless it suits his mood.

"So the King must take time off from ruling. What does the Queen do?"

August grins like he's about to share a big secret and Emma waits. He must be about 10 or 11, but it's hard to tell with the enchantment.

"It's the Queen's kingdom. She inherited it from her father or was supposed to before the Red Queen murdered him."

"What? Why would she do that?"

"She wanted power. She was only reigning Queen for a decade or so. Your father? I think he had something to do with all of it because it got him exiled, right? Must have been bad. After the Red Queen was overthrown and banished, Snow White took her place as the rightful heir and restored the Kingdom. There was a wedding, some bad stuff happened, and I think there was something else...I don't remember. All I know now is that the Kingdom is pretty much peaceful." August stretched high above his head and slumped backwards sleepily. Emma hardly felt tired at all.

"What's the Queen like?"

"Snow White? She's fair-skinned, dark haired, and her face is round like a plum. She's beautiful and nice. Her laugh isn't like anything you would expect. It's loud and contagious, like her smile. You just can't help but smile when you're with her having fun. I've only seen her sad a handful of times. She's also fierce and brave! When she escaped the Queen's hold she was only 16 and I heard she lived off the land for two years, running from the law. She's had all kinds of adventures and plenty of trouble on her own. That's the kind of ruler she is, too. It shows. During all that time she never backed down, she always stood up for her people and did what was right. She rallied the Resistance and stormed the castle. They had the most powerful fairy on their side, too, and it won them the Kingdom. Everyone still talks about it! Oh, I bet if you could just meet her you would be so amazed."

"You would introduce me?" Emma wanted to meet Snow White more than anything. She wanted to know someone so magnificent, so traveled and brave. Her own mother was a stranger to her and this Queen? She was someone Emma could look up to the way August did.

"Absolutely! We could even sneak out when your father is gone." His voice dropped to a whisper. The offer was so tempting that Emma nearly grabbed her cloak. She was itching for adventure, for something other than her own little pond and patch of grass.

Then the world came crashing down, just like that. The pond! Once the sun cleared the trees overlooking the estate, Emma had to be in her pond or something terrible would happen. It happened only once before and she learned her lesson. Besides, her father was crazy not stupid. He laid enchantments everywhere. There was no way out and no way in, not unless he wanted it to be that way. If August got through, and he was here, then it was because her father dropped the enchantments long enough to trap him.

Emma almost cried, "Impossible."

"We'll be back before he even knows you're gone!" He didn't get it. He didn't understand.

"No, August we can't. We can't go anywhere. My father has his ways to keep us in and everyone else out. Besides...there's one other thing," she could feel the tears springing up and wiped them away just as quickly.

"What?"

"My father...he did something...it's like a spell, similar to the one he placed on you but mine is different. Mine is more...it's just his way."

August's eye grew wide, "He spelled you?"

"I'm sure he has his reasons." She shrugged. His reasons were all the same: to protect her, to keep her safe, to keep her his prisoner, to be sure that she could never escape him. None of them were any good though.

"What did he do to you?"

Emma wanted to change the subject desperately, "Why don't I show you to a room first? We have a few more hours before sunrise. It's easier to show you than to explain, okay?"

August nodded. Emma was glad that he did not question her further or say anything about how strange she was. Instead he prattled on about the castle or mansion, neither of which he could distinguish for sure so he called it both. He was a funny boy. Emma was not happy that her father had taken him from his father but she was thankful, if anything, that he was in her company. She would have to care for him and keep an eye on him until her father returned from his trip.

Hopefully by the time he returned she would be able to convince him that August was too valuable, too good to be disposed of. Even if he hated for it, she would try to convince her father that August stay and be her 'little brother'.

"It looks like the sun is going to come up soon." August peeked out the window of his new room. They had spent the last hour pulling sheets off of furniture, clearing away dead bugs, and beating dust out of rugs. It was a distraction from the coming sun that was coming to an unhappy close.

Emma came beside him at the window and sighed, "Looks like it."

"You look scared."

"I am scared." She smiled. It wasn't a happy smile like the ones she had shared with August during their stories and jokes. This was a smile that was resigned to misery.

"You don't have to be. We're friends now, you and I." August's hand found hers and she held it tightly.

"Come on then. It's a bit of a walk from here."

The pair took the same path that Emma and the hag had walked before. August filled the usual silence but it was nervous chatter, nothing important. He was just as scared as she was and he had no idea what to expect. It was false hope that Emma clung to. Maybe today she wouldn't transform. Maybe, by some divine salvation, August's arrival signaled the end of her lonely world.

Then the sun was rising and Emma was knee deep in pond water with August looking on. She kept her gown on, knowing that it would just float ashore after her transformation and someone would bring a fresh one. Hopefully the hag left instructions for the boy in her stead.

"Emma!" His voice was frantic but she did not look.

When the sun spilled over the trees it consumed Emma. The light wrapped her up like a warm embrace. It made her smaller, less herself, and more birdlike. First the fingers and arms to wings and then her body followed right down to the ruffled feathers of her chest. Once it was done, Emma dunked her head into the cool water and flapped her wings.

If it wasn't for her new form, she would have tried to comfort the wooden boy collapsed on the shore. Instead she folded in on herself and closed off from the world.


End file.
